


Reverse

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Canon Era, Cockwarming, Dom!George, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Riding, Smut, Sub!Samuel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: Samuel likes to be dominated when he gets too stressed out. George is more than happy to oblige him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eggheadburr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=eggheadburr).
  * Inspired by [Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of Kingbury](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530660) by [thegreatgayjatsby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby). 



> I wrote this as a response chapter for my fic "Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of Kingbury", which is essentially a 50 prompt challenge. This is chapter 27, and I am publishing it as a free-standing piece because it is long enough to do so and this pairing needs more good smut. So here we go.

Samuel had always known that George was devious, but he never imagined that he would be in a situation such as this. He enjoyed being put in his place by His Majesty whenever things proved too stressful, and such a time was now. His experience with London society was limited, and so when he’d made an errant comment to a member of his parish and had been given a stern tongue-lashing, he’d felt miserable. Sam had moped into George’s chambers, flopping face-first onto His Highness’ bed.

The King merely raised a brow, not bothering to look up from whatever work he was completing. “Samuel,” He called, voice light but carrying an edge to it. “Come here.”

Samuel was reluctant to obey, and he slouched his way over to George’s writing desk much slower than necessary, his arms folded tightly across his chest. George still didn’t look up. Samuel waited. George did not speak. The bishop began to feel his petty apathy waning into anxiety, and he bit his lip, chewing on his frown.

When His Majesty finished writing whatever piece of correspondence he’d been working on, he sealed the missive with wax, then scooted his chair back a little. “Strip.” The command came quietly, and Samuel stamped down the urge to scramble to comply.

“No.” Samuel was deeply impressed with himself that his voice didn’t shake.

George paused from where he was reaching for another sheet of parchment. “What was that, darling?”

“I said, _no_ ,” Samuel insisted, drawing his brows together and trying to compose an angry expression on his face.

The King stood, slowly, rising to his full height and looking down his nose at Samuel. “Strip, Samuel.” He ordered, tone sharp and cold.

Samuel swallowed tightly, staring hard at George. This went on until George’s jaw clenched, and the bishop’s hands immediately came up to undo his cravat. George watched him until he began to work on divesting himself of his undershirt, than sat. Samuel’s clothes formed a pool around him, until he stood naked, before the King.

George adjusted his chair minutely and spread his legs, motioning silently with one hand to the space between them. Sam sank to his knees and promptly occupied that space, reaching to touch George’s thighs.

He found a hand being smacked aside, and he looked up with wide eyes. “Geor-”

“You will address me as _Your Majesty_ , or not at all, Bishop Seabury.” George kept his voice steady, that infuriating smugness collected behind a mask of control. “And you will keep your hands to yourself. You don’t deserve to touch royalty, until you’ve proven yourself worth it.”

Samuel licked his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very good.” George patted him on the head, then casually unlaced his breeches. “Get to it, then.”

Samuel used his hand only to guide George’s cock into his mouth, than closed his eyes, relaxed his jaw, and got comfortable. The sound of George’s quill on parchment was deliciously normal, and Samuel ran his tongue carefully over the head of the King’s cock. George’s writing continued on, unfettered, and Sam hollowed his cheeks out a little, giving George’s cockhead a proper pass with his tongue.

“Behave, Seabury.” George sounded bored, but Samuel could feel him hardening in his mouth.

Nevertheless, he ceased in his ministrations, simply content to sit and warm George’s cock with his throat. Every movement the King made was intensified by their closeness. Samuel closed his eyes and hummed very quietly. George’s thighs twitched. Sam smiled around his mouthful and shifted again, his legs beginning to ache from staying in one position for so long.

George had just finished a third letter since Samuel had taken his cock in his mouth, when a knock sounded at the door. Samuel immediately made to move away, but found George’s hand cupping the back of his head, chiding him back into place. Samuel’s eyes widened a little when the King’s voice called out, “Enter.”

He’d never expected to be in this situation.

A servant crossed the threshold, bearing a tray that held their dinner. Samuel squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed beyond belief. “Set it there,” George instructed, voice even and calm. The sound of metal on wood rang out, and then, that of the door closing.

Samuel moved to pull back once more, but again, found George’s hand in his hair. He mewled. “Hush.” George murmured, as the hand in Samuel’s hair disappeared, replaced by silverware clinking. “I told you to behave.”

The bishop made another little sound, and George sighed softly. “You know you were being disrespectful. Why should I allow you to do as you wish now, too?”

When Samuel stayed dutifully with his mouth around George’s cock, the King murmured, “Good boy. See, that isn’t so hard, is it?” Fingers carded through Samuel’s hair, and George shifted a little. “Come up here.”

Samuel slid back and looked up, knees popping a little as he moved to settle in George’s lap. George’s hands were gentle when they ran down his sides, the lacey cuffs of his shirt sleeves tickling the bishop. Samuel squirmed a little, before settling, a little pout on his face. He so enjoyed when George took control in this manner to settle his nerves. It was humiliating, and that’s what Sam enjoyed.

For appearance’s sake, he mumbled, “Can we go somewhere high so I can jump off it?”

The sound of George’s hand slapping him across the ass registered before the sting did. Samuel made a strained sound, a mix of pleasure and surprise. His hips rolled a little, and he was suddenly all too aware of George’s hard length between them.

“Don’t say things like that.” George said sharply, smoothing a cool hand over the skin he’d reddened with the strike he’d bestowed there. “You’re not permitted. We’ll go back to silence, if you wish.”

Samuel shook his head, tucking his face into George’s neck. The hand that wasn’t on his ass slid up to cup the nape of his neck, drawing him into a gentle kiss. Samuel melted into the King’s touch, and rocked his hips again, a little more insistently. George made a muffled noise into Sam’s mouth. His Majesty broke the kiss and appraised Samuel, his eyes dark.

“Would you like for me to fuck you, Sammy, darling?” He asked, voice sweet as he caressed Sam’s cheek. “Will that help?”

Sam nodded blindly, already fumbling with George’s cravat. The King giggled wickedly, batting Sam’s hands aside, then stood, taking Samuel into his arms. Samuel, although he was skinny and much smaller than George, was always impressed by shows of His Majesty’s strength, and he whimpered when George laid him out across the large bed.

The King shifted to kneel between his legs, one hand trailing down Sam’s inner thigh. The bishop’s legs fell open at the delicate touch, and he hissed George’s name. The King looked up briefly, than reached over and collected the vial of scented oil he kept in the nightstand.

“The real inquiry though, is, do you deserve it?” George’s voice had taken on that controlling edge again, and Sam shivered.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He answered quickly, reaching up to tug at George’s cravat again.

The action was permitted, and the cravat was discarded off over the edge of the bed. George settled closer, knees pushing Sam’s legs apart. Sam licked his lips and undid the buttons on George’s waistcoat. George shrugged the article of clothing off, and it too, was banished to the floor.

After that, Samuel’s hands were quickly claimed and pinned above his head. “Keep them there,” George purred, and Samuel had to take up fistfuls of feather down pillows to obey the command.

His Majesty took his sweet time removing his rings, setting them one by one on the top of the nightstand. Samuel watched with hooded eyes. When the task was completed, George slicked his fingers with the oil from the vial, then without further ado, pressed one into Sam.

The bishop whimpered and clenched his hands in the pillows, turning his face aside so George couldn’t mock how wide his pupils had blown. A second finger joined the first, and Samuel struggled to relax to accommodate the sudden intrusion. His Majesty slowly curled them, first together, than alternating, and Sam found it much simpler to relax than he’d thought it would be.

When he began to cant his hips into the thrusts of George’s hand, the King added a third finger. Samuel twisted his hands further into the pillows, whining, and George disappeared for a moment, slicking himself before returning to his designated place between Sam’s thighs.

Sam looked up at the other’s prompting, a soft hand on his cheek, and met George’s gaze. It was only when Samuel locked eyes with the King that he began to press in. Sam’s hips jerked a little, and George seated himself quicker than he’d mean to, arms shaking from the strain of holding himself aloft atop the other.

The bishop could see the idea forming behind George’s eyes, and he felt almost wary when the King slipped back out as quickly as he’d entered Sam. Samuel groaned in frustration and reached to grab at George’s shirt, but the King was already busy flipping them over.

Sam found himself straddling George’s hips after a moment of clumsy maneuvering, and he gawked at the smirking King with wide eyes. “Ge-”

His Majesty cut Sam off with a look alone, reminding him that he was still supposed to be playing the part of the subjugated, and he swallowed heavily. It took him a few slippery tries, but after what seemed to be forever, Samuel managed to guide George’s cock to his entrance and sink back down onto it.

George broke character briefly, hands flying up to grab Sam’s hips as he moaned. Sam grinned, shuddering as George dug his perfectly manicured nails into Samuel’s sides. The bishop paused to adjust to the unfamiliar angle, then rose up and sat down in one fluid motion.

“ _Sammy_ ,” George’s voice was high and broken, and Samuel’s grin brightened. He repeated the motion. George’s eyes rolled a little.

Positions reversed both physically and mentally, Sam gently removed George’s hands from his waist and stretched them out over his head. George watched with great interest, both brows raised. Samuel thought he was rather pretty laid out beneath him. He rocked his hips. The fiery defiance that had been building in George’s eyes melted away.

The rest of their coupling, once Samuel got into a rhythm, was rushed. Although Sam’s limbs trembled with the exertion of riding the King, he discovered it to be worth it, what with the faces and sounds he was coaxing out of George. It was rare His Majesty lost control, even during sex.

Sam briefly wondered what it would like to be the one to fuck George. That was the thought that sent him over the edge, spilling across George’s stomach, his head tilted back, hips bucking frantically. The spasms of his muscles drew George’s orgasm out, and the King wrenched his hands free of Sam’s grip to hold onto him again.

The two sank into each others’ embrace, panting, and George groaned when Samuel slid off to his side. Sam lay with a leg still hooked over George’s hips, his hair sweaty and disheveled. George raised a weak hand to brush the strands from Samuel’s forehead, then leaned in to kiss him.

They shared their afterglow, and Sam hummed happily, lips following a nonsensical path about the other’s chest. George made a low sound in response in the back of his throat, then cast an eye across the room to his writing desk.

“We’ve let dinner go cold.” He murmured, continuing to stroke Sam’s hair.

Sam laughed a little, nuzzling into George’s neck. “It’s okay.” He looked into George’s face, and his thank you went unspoken.

He wondered if George would be open to trying, the next time he felt upset, their positions reversed. The thought made his cock twitch half-heartedly, and he grinned before kissing His Majesty. George chose not to question it, pleased that Samuel was feeling better as a direct result of his actions.


End file.
